09/02/2024

13:17

we're back home now. we cut ourselves last night and our mam kept crying about how she couldn't sleep because of nightmares and we couldn't do this to her after what she went through with her brother and we'll get put in a mental hospital. it doesn't feel like we're that bad yet, i don't think. i don't want us to be. but i guess it does feel inevitable given we're going to tell the psychiatrist our suicide plans for if they refuse us antidepressants. cremation is more expensive than we thought. i feel a little bad about our special requests, given how expensive everything seems. so much to pay just to die. we're making her cookies as an apology, we stood up for a little too long so now we're in more pain and have a migraine. we don't have any painkillers right now so we'll just have to sit here. i don't like how i come off anymore. i seem so negative. so sad. i'm not supposed to be sad. i promise, i'm nice. if you're reading this please don't think of me wrong. i'm nice and i'm energetic. this is all just temporary. it's all wrong. don't think of me wrong. maybe one day you'll see me the way i'm supposed to be. i think you'll like me if you ever get to. not that i have any idea how you'd see me. but i guess it doesn't matter ! i'll get out of here ! it won't matter anymore once i'm home !

the woods is calling out to us again. not verbally, of course. i can just feel it pulling us forward when we look out towards it. it's a good job we stay indoors, i think. i can tell it's going to be where we die. considering we're probably going to move, i suppose that means we're going to die soon. i'm not sure how. suicide seems likely, but there's no way to know for sure. i don't get what it wants with us. is it because we planned to die there so many years ago ? is it holding us to it ? it's the same tree. always the same tree. the exact one we planned to do it on. it's always been there, staring us in the eyes. we've put countless bodies of animals our father has killed in the hole in the middle. maybe we'll be the sacrifice before it becomes a wood of death. maybe they'll bury our body there somehow, in that little hole. i can tell it wants something with us. there's still glass next to it from cutting there last year. it's seen us get close to death countless times. it's seen our blood spilled right beneath it. i can still smell the grass as the sharp pain kept going in our thighs and arms. it feels like it was forever ago. time feels so strange now. i wonder how we'll die there. i wonder when it'll be. i wonder if our body will be buried in the woodland soil or if they'll drag our body out for a funeral. i don't think we can fight against this. it won't stop shouting at us. it's signals are so loud in our brain. maybe it'll keep doing this until we end it. maybe we were always destined for those woods. there's a reason we've gone there so many times. is your promise of death a threat or an act of mercy ? you've seen us through everything. we ran to you so many times when sad. maybe you want us to rest. maybe we should thank you. maybe it's not as terrifying as it feels.

we need to finish making those cookies. i'll update once we're done. they smell nice.

20:18

i forgot to update. the cookies were okay. they could have been better but they were nice enough. our mam liked them.

we cut again. i think this might be the worst we've done so far. maybe that's because we went closer to the wrist this time. the skin is softer on the inside of the arm. i felt angry and kept going in the same place. it wouldn't stop bleeding for a bit. i'm not sure how deep it is but it's gaping, not too much, half a centimeter wide but it could be much worse. i don't think we need stitches. if we can clean it up and see the fat layer we might need stitches to avoid infection but we don't want to get stitches. but i also do, in a way. there's never really any other excuses to have stitches in human skin. maybe i'd feel more at home. but we also just want to avoid stitches. it hurts a lot. there's a lot of blood around now. not that much, but there's more on the carpet and some on the curatain and still some light stains on the floor in the bathroom. most of the blood is on tissues. it'd be bad to get blood everywhere. i don't know how to feel anymore. i shouldn't be doing this. this isn't me. i feel so angry and scared. i want this body to go away. go away. i hate being trapped here. let me out of here. i don't want to be here. let me go. i'll get out. i'm going to get out somehow. if you don't let me out on your own i'll kill this body myself. i'm sorry for the poor child. i know i'm supposed to make children happy. but you're already dead. your life isn't my problem anymore.

22:05

do you think he'd cry to if he saw me doing this to myself ? would he even recognise me anymore ? what happened to me ? would he hold me and try to calm me ? would he be so scared by how much i've changed he'd start sobbing ? what would he think of me ? i know he cares about me. i'm sure he'd try to help. but i feel like i would scare him. i feel like it'd scare him if he saw me now. this isn't like me at all. this isn't me. i'm sorry. i love you. i wish i was the same as i was back home. i promise i'll be back to normal when i come back. i love you. i miss you. i just want you to hold me in your arms. i want you to hold me. i miss you. i love you. i love you.

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